


The Free Will Club

by cinnamontoastcronch



Category: Supernatural, The Breakfast Club (1985)
Genre: AU, Basket Case!Rowena, Big Brother Dean, Brain!sam, Criminal!Dean, Friendship, Gen, Humor, Multi, Princess!Charlie, The Breakfast Club - Freeform, athlete!castiel, castiel novak - Freeform, slight angst
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2015-05-18
Updated: 2015-05-18
Packaged: 2018-03-31 01:58:13
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,430
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3960127
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/cinnamontoastcronch/pseuds/cinnamontoastcronch
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
      <p>The only reason this work is teen is some mild language and mild sexual content</p>
    </blockquote>





	The Free Will Club

**Author's Note:**

> The only reason this work is teen is some mild language and mild sexual content

"Come on, Sam..." Dean sighed, giving my shoulder a shake. "You can't stay in the car forever! Let's go!"

I jutted my chin at my big brother."I didn't do anything! I shouldn't be here..." 

Dean barked a laugh. "Sam, you punched a kid in the face. I mean, it was awesome, but also a really shitty idea to do three doors down from the main office."

"So, what? Are you saying you don't punch people?"

Dean smirked. "Oh, hell no. I'm just careful about where I take 'em. Now, come on. Saturday detention is shitty enough, you wanna stay here Sunday, too?"

"No..." I grumbled, stepping out of the car. The Impala gave a loud creak as I slammed the door shut. 

I looked around at the other cars pulling up. You could always just tell who was going to step out. Soccer-mom Subaru? Definitely Castiel Novak. Castiel was in involved in every sport there was, but he was oddly quiet. Not like those other sports kids who were loud mouthed and obnoxious and just generally irritating.

Weirdly spray-painted van? Most likely Rowena. She was this freaky goth girl who always looked like she had gotten about two hours of sleep the night before. She never paid any attention in class, but preferred to slump in her seat and glare at anyone who tried to make eye contact. She's one of those kids who could probably get away with murder and no one would even notice.

The shiny new mustang belonged to Charlotte Bradbury. Everybody knew Charlotte Bradbury. She always dressed in bright colors and they always matched her flaming red hair. When she walked, she looked like she was bouncing to some bubblegum pop song. She didn't look too stoked today, though.

And of course, the old, dirty, "classic" Impala belonged to my brother: Dean Winchester. Dean inherited the car from our dad, and worshiped the goddamn thing almost as much as he worshiped our dad. I still don't quite understand why, though. I mean, sure, he always kept the car looking shiny, but it's parts had been replaced so many times it might as well have been a different car.

"Sam, hey." Dean snapped his fingers. "Hurry up, geek." 

Dean grinned, mussing up my hair. 

"Alright! Alright! I'm coming! Jeez..." I shoved my fists into my pockets, and ran to catch up with my brother who had already managed to stride to the front door. When the hell did his legs get that long? Brooding, I pushed the door open and followed Dean inside. 

\--------

Honestly, I wasn't entirely sure where we were going. I'd never really been in enough trouble to be in detention before. Dean, however, was looking like he could walk there in his sleep. Not that I was surprised; Dean could get away with basically anything, considering absolutely no one at home cared where we were. Ever. As for the teachers, they had all but given up on trying to tame my nightmare of an older brother.

Dean nudged my side with his elbow. "Hey, Sammy." He whispered. I saw a wolfish grin on his face as he gestured to Charlotte, who was a few steps ahead of us.

Her long red hair had been pulled into a braid that sat over her shoulder, allowing the whole world to see the deep scoop in her shirt that almost showed her entire back. What the hell was the point of the damn shirt? She turned to the side and revealed an unnecessary amount of cleavage. Her skirt seemed to be hiked up to her armpits as if she was just trying to piss off the administrators by breaking every freaking rule in the dress code.

I looked at Dean again whose eyes had not left Charlotte.

"Dean..." I warned. 

Don't. Not today. We're already in enough trouble.

Dean just rolled his eyes, that stupid smirk never leaving his face. I could just hear him saying: 'Sucks little brother. I'm gonna get laid by the hottest girl in school, and there ain't a damn thing you can do to stop me!'

I was too harsh on Dean. He was actually really smart. He even told me once he wanted to be an engineer. I had no idea why he didn't try harder in his classes, but he was way better at math and science than I would ever be. The only thing he ever honestly struggled in was Latin, which he wound up dropping anyway. Dean didn't talk much about his grades, though. We usually liked to talk for hours, just the two of us, each doing something solitary that left room for conversation. But every time I tried to bring up school, he'd give short, quippy answers, firmly implying he didn't want to talk about it anymore.

"Sam! Hey!" Dean called from down the hall. I stopped short. In my daze, I had turned the wrong direction and walked all the way down a different hallway. "Detention hall is this way!" 

I ran up beside him again. "Sorry... I just, uh... lost in thought, I guess...?"

"It's fine, just..." Dean sighed and fumbled with his hands, like he was trying hard not to just grab my hand and lead me there like I was five. "Stay behind me, dork." 

Dean sauntered into the detention hall, me trailing awkwardly behind him like a short, gangly shadow.

Mr. Hendrickson turned to us with an irritated grimace . "Finally decided to join us, did you, Winchester?" He asked, drawling out our last name like saying it gave him a sour taste in his mouth. 

"S-sor--" I started before Dean interrupted loudly.

"Oh, well it's not really detention 'till I get here, is it?" He teased happily. Dean put a hand on my back and shoved me forward so that I stood beside him. "And look! I brought the little Winchester, too! This'll be a party for you, Hendrickson."

My face reddened quickly. I gulped loudly and ran a hand nervously through my hair, too mortified to say anything. Why, Dean? Why'd you have to bring me into this?

"Take your seats, boys."

"Yessir..." I mumbled, keeping my head down.

"Okay... Well it so very nice to have all of you here today." Hendrickson said, with the most sarcasm I have ever heard come out of another human being. 

"Each of you..." He droned, stalking up and down the tiny isle created by our six tables. 

"Will stay in this room for..." He checked his watch. "Eight hours."

Charlotte raised a hand politely and said. "Excuse me, Mr. Hendrickson, but I don't think I'm supposed to be here." She crossed her arms and raised an eyebrow, as if daring Hendrickson to say otherwise. 

Hendrickson made no indication he had even heard her.

Hendrickson began to hand out papers and pencils, slamming each one with unnecessary force on our desks. 

"In that time..." 

SLAM! 

"You will not talk." 

SLAM! 

"You will not sleep." 

SLAM! 

"You will not leave this room." Coming to the table Dean and I shared, he threw the last two sets of papers and pencils in front of us.

"You will use these papers to write me a thousand word essay, telling me who you think you are." He glared at Dean, who grinned like this was an inside joke between them. 

"And when I say essay, I mean an essay. Not a single word repeated a thousand times, and not the lyrics to a Kansas song." Everyone looked confused for a moment. "Are we clear on that Mr. Winchester?" 

"Oh, absolutely." Dean said insincerely.

"Good. My office is across that hall where I can see all of you very clearly. So don't try anything, unless you wanna be here next week as well."

I looked at Castiel, who widened his eyes at that statement, and began nervously drumming the table.

Without another word, Hendrickson closed the door loudly.

I looked at Dean who was shrugging to himself, saying quietly: "Guess it's time to pull some bullshit knowledge out..."

Castiel was bouncing his leg anxiously, his eyes darting around as he shifted in his chair uncomfortably.

Charlotte was still huffing in her seat about 'stupid parents' and 'stupid teachers'.

And Rowena, who admittedly I hadn't even noticed was there, was just tearing off corners of the paper and arranging them in weird little circles while mumbling gibberish to herself. What the hell was wrong with that girl?

I looked at the clock. Only three minutes had passed since I arrived.

This was going to be a long day.


End file.
